In the far back, a bedraggled soldier stood in a perfect archer’s stance. Practiced though she was in shooting, the archer couldn’t hide that she was breathing so heavily. As if she’d just run here.
Fates. More are coming.
“Fall back,” I said. “Warder and injured lead. We’ll hold them off.”
Losing Qildor hindered us greatly as it left us with no shield, but the warder would need his own magic to protect both him and Caelo. Thantrel and I could remain armed, and I was able to make a rudimentary barrier of air to protect us as we fled. Therefore, we were the ones to stay. To thin the onslaught, and to give Qildor time to follow Geiravor’s trail.
“I’ll wait at the door.” Qildor helped Caelo to his feet, stabilizing our friend until he could use his wings. A ward materialized around them, and then they were off. I continued dodging arrows and fighting, casting glances behind me. Soon, they were out of sight.
Just a few more seconds. A minute tops and—another arrow whizzed by me. I pivoted out of the way and slammed my shoulder into the stone wall. Pain radiated.
Two more soldiers came at us. Both fell in rapid succession, and I took the opportunity to look beyond, to find the archer, our biggest opponent when we made a break for it. Her bow lowered.
Out of arrows.
Good, because I, too, was faltering. Not physically, but magically. Throughout the fight, I’d continued casting back the poison. Now I would have to pivot, to use my magic as a barrier that allowed us to run. Did I have enough left in me?
“Than, now.” I twisted as I gave the command and rerouted my magic, condensing the air into a defense.
The temperature in the dungeons plummeted. Cries of fae far beyond the isolation corridor rang out. The king would do anything to capture us.
“Run!” I shouted to Thantrel, but it was too late.
Icicles as long as stiletto daggers raced at us, their points deadly. They ripped through the barrier of air I’d created as though it were mere parchment.
“Down!” I fell to my hands and knees as Thantrel screamed in agony, right before a shard of ice slammed into my shoulder. The size and weight of it knocked me on my back. The sword I’d taken skittered away.
I tried to get up, only for something hard to strike my temple. The world darkened.
“Vale! Get up!” Thantrel shouted only to scream again. Ice shattered to the ground. Another onslaught. Had he been hit again?
I attempted to focus my vision, but everything remained blurry.
Focus. To be safe, I pushed air back, trying to keep the poison away. Through my efforts, I felt someone moving our way, barreling towards us.
I inhaled. Did my best to force my blurred vision to clear, and it did, barely. Enough to catch motion, to squint and find Rhistel, five paces away, his ungloved hand outstretched.
Chapter 37
ISOLDE
“Here it is.” Yrsa reached the dead end of the isolation corridor. “I need to find the rock that opens the door.”
I drew in a long breath. My muscles labored under Queen Inga’s weight, and my ears strained to hear what was happening down the passageway. Vale, Caelo, Qildor, and Thantrel were far behind us, possibly still fighting. I prayed they’d defeated their opponents and were rushing to join us with not a single fae in pursuit.
Yrsa ran her moon-pale hands over the rocks, searching. The vampires watched the way we’d come, ready to defend at any moment. Thyra stood on the other side of the queen. Some might say she appeared calm, though the throbbing vein in her neck told me that was far from the truth.
“Aha!” Yrsa’s voice rose, the sound mingling with a thud as a hidden door unlatched. Yrsa gripped the edge and pulled; the hinges groaned. “Hasn’t moved in a while. Needs oil.”
“I’ll remember to send Lady Ithamai a letter with that suggestion,” Thyra said.
Yrsa snorted. “I’d love to see the look on her face when she gets that!”
The image was satisfying, but wiped clear from my mind as the door opened all the way and stale, sulfuric air rose to meet us. My nose wrinkled. “Why does it reek?”
“A couple of the channels down here feed into luminescent hot springs inside the castle, but eventually, the streams mix. Some sort of creature makes the shimmer. The smell is from the minerals they eat.”
“Gods, hot springs sound divine right about now.” Thyra shifted the queen’s weight.
